


The Daughter's Secret

by HelixMaster



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-19 20:58:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7377139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelixMaster/pseuds/HelixMaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey! We don’t have to do anything! You don’t even have to do anything! We don’t have to fool around with whatever Moriarty’s had planned! He doesn’t have nearly as much power now that he’s-- oh I don’t know, Dead!?” John threw his arms in the air in frustration, then sighed and lowered his arms. “Sherlock,” His voice became softer, almost pleading, “You are not under this psychopath’s power, especially not when he’s dead.” Sherlock said nothing, instead thanking Mary for the tea and quietly sipping it.</p>
<p>“Well then we’ll just have to find out,” Sherlock put down his cup and leaned back in his chair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Showing Off

_ Two silhouetted figures stood in the dark of night, the first looking up at the second. “Do I have to?” The voice was almost a growl with annoyance and anger. _

 

_ “Yes.” The taller shadow towered over the shorter, the voice soft and melodious to any possible passers-by, but promised death under it’s sweet facade. _

 

_ “Why? Why couldn’t you have gotten someone else?” The younger one, having not nearly as many years as the tall and imposing one, stood defiant, almost challenging them. _

 

_ “Because. Why are you still questioning why I do what I do?” The tall silhouette glared down at the other. _

 

_ “Because I want to know! You never tell me anything until it’s too late and I can’t do anything about it, and it pisses me off!” The growl was much more apparent now, borderline threatening if the person behind the shadow were to say anything else. _

 

_ “Well you’ll just have to  _ Deal!”  _ The shout from the supposedly more mature voice echoed against the cold bricks of the streets and alleys. _

 

_ “...” _

 

_ *** _

 

“Sherlock! What do you mean!? If Moriarty is dead, and you yourself have said this, even going through a bloody overdose to prove it, then what would he do next if he is  _ dead _ !?” John looked at Sherlock in exasperation as the detective leaned back in the backseat of the car, his trademark smirk gracing his face once again as he closed his eyes for a moment.

 

“Oh haven’t you figured it out yet?” Sherlock opened his eyes again to look at John, who gave him a slight glare. “Oh well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out later.”

 

“Why can’t you just explain it now?” John crossed his arms and huffed.

 

“Because I don’t feel like it, as much as I love showing off, according to your blog,” Sherlock grinned a little as John cursed under his breath.

 

“Fine, be an asshole,” The soldier sighed as he slumped back in the backseat, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “Let’s just get you back to Baker Street…”

 

Within a few hours, they had arrived back in the familiar flat that was 221B Baker Street, and Sherlock stepped out of the car with John and Mary. He glanced around, then unlocked the door and stepped inside. John followed him into the kitchen, where he saw Ms. Hudson shaking in her chair, the television still mindlessly playing the endless loop of “Did you miss me?” along with Jim Moriarty’s face taunting them from beyond the grave.

 

“Oh my god! Ms. Hudson, are you all right!?” He was about to make sure the landlady wasn’t harmed in any way, when she nodded a little.

 

“I-I believe so, yes. I think the suddenness of the sound, along with that madman’s face startled me a bit.” Ms. Hudson brushed herself off a bit, then put her dishwashing gloves back on to finish what she had started, “Why don’t you make yourselves a cup of tea? Everything’s still where you left it.” John nodded a little, secretly glad that the old woman was okay. Sherlock nodded with John as he went to grab what he needed to make the tea. “Oh, Sherlock, this also came in the mail for you.” She handed him a small parcel, giving Mary time to sneak the tea-making items from the detective before he could do any damage.

 

“Thank you, Ms. Hudson,” Sherlock looked at the package and shook it experimentally, then tore it open and poured the contents into his hand, “How odd…”

 

“What is it?” John glanced at him as he stuffed a scone into his mouth. He saw Sherlock holding a few scraps of fabric in his hand. Sherlock thumbed over the fabric in his hand, turning it over carefully.

 

“They’re scraps of two flags. American and Union Jack. Moriarty’s sending us another game,” He let out a small chuckle, “And I suppose we’ll have to play.”

 

“Hey!  _ We _ don’t have to do anything! You don’t even have to do anything! We don’t have to fool around with whatever Moriarty’s had planned! He doesn’t have nearly as much power now that he’s-- oh I don’t know,  _ Dead!? _ ” John threw his arms in the air in frustration, then sighed and lowered his arms. “Sherlock,” His voice became softer, almost pleading, “You are not under this psychopath’s power,  _ especially _ not when he’s dead.” Sherlock said nothing, instead thanking Mary for the tea and quietly sipping it.

 

“Well then we’ll just have to find out,” Sherlock put down his cup and leaned back in his chair. He glanced around a little, then pulled out his violin and began tuning it. John cradled his face in his hands and groaned, shaking his head a little. Sherlock played a few notes, then abruptly stopped. He took a deep breath, then put his violin down. “Shut up, shut up, shut UP!” Everyone immediately stopped and looked at him inquisitively, hearing his voice echo softly against the walls. Nobody dared make a sound in case something happened. There was the normal bustle of the town and the pitter-patter of the rain; nothing seemed out of place, and then all of the sudden they heard the sound of  someone pounding on the front door, bashing against it and opening and slamming shut, then the labored and ragged breathing of someone who must have been running, and then the thump of their exhausted body hitting the floor, slowing sliding down the wall.

 

“What the hell…!?” John immediately stood up and ran down the stairs, Sherlock and Mary on his heels. He stopped in front of the door, looking down at a young woman- no, a teenaged girl- gasping for air as she leaned against the door, sweat lining her brow as she leaned her head back against the door. She had a rather large purse slung over her shoulder that she was holding close to her chest.

 

“Well then. This is certainly interesting,” The corners of Sherlock’s lips lifted into a secret smile as he looked down at the teen. The girl took a deep breath, then opened her eyes to look at him. John stepped forward and offered his hand to her, helping her to her feet. She coughed and staggered, falling forward into him and wheezing a bit. He steadied her a bit, then picked her up and carried her up the stairs. Mary quickly followed John, and Sherlock knelt down to look at the area that she had been. His eyes scanned the scene, peeked outside, then stood up and climbed the stairs after the others.

 


	2. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You wouldn’t dare,” If looks could kill, John would be on the ground from the girl’s glare, which silently promised death to those who crossed her. John raised his eyebrows, his expression daring as he tipped the cup ever so slightly. “Stop! I need it! It’s important, okay? Just- please!” John looked at her, his expression unchanging.
> 
>  
> 
> “Then what’s in the bag? If it’s that important, then why bother bringing it?” Sherlock rested his elbows on the armrests of his chair, clasping his hands together and pressing his index fingers against his upper lip. “So what is it? Guns? Weaponry? Drugs, possibly? John, hand me the bag.” John raised his eyebrows, but shrugged and threw the bag over, putting his tea down as Sherlock caught the purse. Scarlet shrieked and stood up.

 

_ “Well, it’s now or never.” a shadowed figure confronted a second in an dimly lit and empty school corridor, looming over the other shadow. _

 

_ “Says who?” The second figure’s voice conveyed nothing but defiance as they stood across from each other, a war of words having been sparked. _

 

_ “Says I, now do something worth your life for once!” The first voice boomed, and both persons glanced around, making sure they weren’t discovered. _

 

_ “And who are you to tell me what my life is worth!?” The second’s voice lowered to a loud whisper, taking a step towards the first. _

 

_ “Apparently not a lot considering what you’ve been doing! Jeez, concentrating on school. What are you, a fish?” The taller silhouette chuckled smugly, but it was stopped quickly as they were slammed into the wall behind them. The second voice lowered to a rumbling growl. _

 

_ “Yeah. I like to consider myself a shark among minnows!” _

 

_ *** _

 

“What’s your name, and who’s following you?” Sherlock leaned against the doorframe as he looked at the girl, who looked up at him, her breath mostly returned, but not quite.

 

_ *Hazel-green eyes _

 

_ *Dark brown hair, wavy, falls past the shoulders but was worn up in a ponytail _

 

_ *tan skin _

 

_ *16-17 years old _

 

_ *still wheezing a little- asthmatic _

 

_ *has a big dog and a small dog- German Shepherd and Shih Tzu _

 

_ *bloodshot eyes: tired and Wearing contacts for possibly the third time _

 

_ *ripped blue jeans: tripped while running, soaking wet from the thighs down _

 

_ *brown boots, muddy and soaking, well used for at least a year _

 

_ *thick jacket- two thick jackets, one red, one green, wet from just above the waist down: not used to the cold _

 

_ *green jacket is worn and well used; tag states that it was sold from an American store _

 

_ *Large, black purse, completely dry _

 

_ *silver analog watch worn on the right wrist, water resistant 200 meters and the time is set five minutes fast *pencil/graphite and ink smudges along pinky ridge of left hand- left handed/ ambidextrous _

 

“I’m still waiting for an answer.” Sherlock had said after her breathing had calmed a little more. “Who’s after you?”

 

“... My name is Scarlet Kelly. I go to school at the Royal Academy of Music-”

 

“How? You’re much too young to be in a university.”

 

“If you let me finish, I could explain,” The girl named Scarlet shot the detective a glare, then took a breath. “I’ve been attending the Academy as a prodigy. I passed my A-Levels early, and they let me attend on a scholarship.”

 

“Full?”

 

“I pay for books. Other than that, they pay for my tuition and dorm.”

 

“Then why are you here? Royal Academy is only a seven minute walk if you went the right way, but your boots are muddy and your clothes are soaking wet. Drenched up to the waist, even. It looks like you ran through a river or some kind of massive puddle.” He glanced at her bag, “And held your purse over you, away from the water, yet there’s not a drop of water on it somehow. Now how is that possible if you were going through some kind of wetland while it was raining?”

 

“I had put it in a plastic bag to keep it from getting wet, it slipped off somewhere along the way, so I tucked it under my jacket.” She started shivering a little as she realized that she was still wearing a soaking wet jacket and was near a vent that blew quickly cooling air on her.

 

“Here. you need to take the jacket off, or you’ll get sick,” John went to help her take it off, but she flinched away from him a little. She looked at him, then let out a small breath and took off her red jacket, leaving the green one on for as long as she could. John gave her a glare, and she glared back, almost challenging him. Sherlock raised his eyebrows as he observed the silent battle between the doctor and the teen.

 

“I’m not taking my jacket off!”

 

“And why not? You’ll get sick if you don’t!” John put his hands on his hips, and Scarlet crossed her arms over her chest.

 

“Because-!”

 

“Because why? Because that jacket is one of the only pieces of clothing that you have from your home? In America?” Sherlock interrupted Scarlet’s argument, and she looked at him, seeming to hide a secret smile.

 

“What?”

 

“You’re American, or at least you grew up there. The green jacket you own is from Old Navy, an American store, so you’ve travelled there at least once. You wear the second jacket, showing that you’re not used to the cold, or at least not used to anything around 13 degrees Celcius, so I assume you get cold at around 24 degrees.” He stopped to look at her expression, moving swiftly from confusion to converting to understanding. He let his smirk once again grace his lips. “So tell me. How many degrees is that in Farenheit?”

 

She grit her teeth, setting her jaw silently, “24 degrees Celcius is about 75 degrees Farenheit, and 13 degrees is about 55 degrees…”

 

“Now, why would you bother converting Celcius to Farenheit? Unless you were converting Farenheit to Celcius. You must have lived in the Americas for quite a while. More than likely in the south. But you say you attend the rather prestigious Royal Academy of Music. That’s quite a leap for a girl your age.” Sherlock took a step in the room and sat down in his chair, never taking his icy-blue eyes off of her and keeping track of every single thing she does. John looked at the detective, then back at the teen.

 

“Hey, it may be a leap, but that’s still the truth!” Scarlet’s accent was now gone, having been replaced with an American one, although it couldn’t be specifically placed.

 

“What’s still the truth, that you’re Irish, or that you attend a prestigious university as a genius?” He asked, a smug look on his face.

 

“I am Irish, and I do go to Royal! Now, if you’ll excuse me-” The teen growled and started to get up, reaching for her bag, but John quickly snatched it out of her reach. “Hey! Give that back!”

 

“What is so important about this bag that you protected it from the elements at all costs?” John stood over her, then sat down in his chair, bag still in hand. Scarlet’s eyes flared with rage as she started to stand up again, but John picked up his cup of tea and held it near the bag. “It’s a rather nice bag. It would be a shame if something were to happen to it.” The teen stopped immediately, narrowing her eyes at the doctor.

 

“You wouldn’t  _ dare _ ,” If looks could kill, John would be on the ground from the girl’s glare, which silently promised death to those who crossed her. John raised his eyebrows, his expression daring as he tipped the cup ever so slightly. “Stop! I need it! It’s important, okay? Just- please!” John looked at her, his expression unchanging.

 

“Then what’s in the bag? If it’s that important, then why bother bringing it?” Sherlock rested his elbows on the armrests of his chair, clasping his hands together and pressing his index fingers against his upper lip. “So what is it? Guns? Weaponry? Drugs, possibly? John, hand me the bag.” John raised his eyebrows, but shrugged and threw the bag over, putting his tea down as Sherlock caught the purse. Scarlet shrieked and stood up.

 

“Are you two insane!? All the candy will get loose and stain my papers and ruin my phone!” She slapped her hands to her mouth right as she realized what she said, and she groaned in embarrassment. “Oh dear god I sound like an idiot, don’t I?”

 

“Yes, you do. Care to explain?” Sherlock said, holding onto her purse.

 

Scarlet sighed, then snatched the bag from him and opened it, digging through it as she explained. “First off, no, I don’t have any weed brownies, PCP-laced hard candy or Acid blotters if that’s what you want. Drugs are a disgusting habit to pursue. I much prefer music collecting.” She glanced at Sherlock, hiding a smirk as he hid his slight disappointment. “The papers are for a few research projects I’ve been working on for different things or helping friends.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like Music History, Education, Tech, and some World History and Anthropology. I’m working on some joint projects with a few friends-” She suddenly stopped and glanced at her watch, then her phone, looked around a little frantically, getting up, “no no no..” She glanced out the window and looked at the setting sun; she checked her watch again, then went back to pacing around the room with her hands making a tent over her nose and mouth, almost mimicking Sherlock. Sherlock meanwhile had reached towards her purse to pull her phone out, but swiftly pulled out his hand as he heard a growl and rather loud and deep bark.

 

“What the hell was that?” John looked at the bag, then at Scarlet as he got up and started to open the bag again. Scarlet quickly spun around and ran over to the bag and grabbed it from both men. She opened the bag fully, and a small dog’s head poked out. John combed his hair with his fingers. “I’m losing my bloody mind. Why is there a dog in your purse!? You know what, why are you even here? Why do we have to deal with a psycho teen girl who just ran in , and you haven’t told us anything?! You’ve been dodging even saying your name, and you seemed to have missed the simple fact of a living, breathing,  _ DOG _ in your purse!”

 

“I think you missed the fact that Moo-shu was in my purse when you didn’t ask the right questions,” Scarlet took the tiny yapper out of her bag and hugged it, hiding another smile. “Did you ever think of that?”

 

“What kind of damn questions do you want us to ask you? I don’t think it gets any more blatant than ‘what’s in your bag!?’ And either way, you’ve been dodging questions since you ran in he-! Wait did you just call that thing Moo-shu?”

 

“But why were you running?” Sherlock cut in and looked at her, “What or who were you running from? You seem to want to dodge the questions because you believe you can deal with the problem on your own, but you realized that this is much bigger than what you can normally handle, so you’ve run here. But why? What were you running from?”

 

“As much as I’d love to hear this lovely interrogation,” Mary piped up finally, looking at Scarlet, “You’re bleeding.”

 

“What? I’m-” Scarlet looked at her, then shifted slightly and gulped in realization, “oh dear.. Where’s the bathroom?”

 

“Second on the left, but-” Sherlock was cut off by Scarlet dashing past him and slamming the door behind her, locking it. “What on Earth..?”

 

“What, the great mind didn’t notice the blood on her leg?” Mary looked at Sherlock as he went back to digging through the bag, pulling the small Shih-Tzu out despite its protests of barking and almost biting him, then pulled out a bottle of Neproxin. He dug around further, then pulled out various items, listing them as he pulled them out. “One bottle of Benadryl, two doses left; notepad and pencil case, filled with notes and doodles in various subjects; one iPod 3rd generation, probably a music player filled with classical I’ll go through that later; a file filled with sheet music; an extra change of clothes; a bag of chocolate, sealed off so the dog can’t eat it; extra feminine products, a flashlight..” he pulled out what looked to be a small pendant of some sort, looked at it and turned it over in his palm, then returned it to the bag, “and other small tchotchkes..” He carefully replaced the items just before Scarlet walked back in. She glanced at them.

 

“Thanks, Mrs. Mary.” She nodded at her, then pulled out her phone, then put it back in her pocket. “...can I use anyone’s phone?”

 

“Why? And how-” John raised an eyebrow.

 

“I think I’m being followed and I need to tell my friends where I am and that I can’t make rehearsal.” Scarlet looked him straight in the eyes as she cut him off, challenging him again. “Now may I please borrow a phone, Mr. John?” He sighed, accepting the answer.

 

“Fine, but you need to explain everything once you’re done. Including how you know our names.” He tossed her the phone, and she caught it.

 

“Thanks, and it’s because I’ve seen it in the papers, plus the blog.” Scarlet shrugged, then dialed a number, pacing around a bit. “...Hey Scarlet, it’s Foxy… I’m fine, but I won’t be able to make rehearsal.. Yes I have my phone…..” as she kept talking on the phone, John looked over at Sherlock.

 

“What did you deduce?” he whispered to him, glancing over at the teenager. Sherlock took a small breath.

 

“She’s allergic to nuts, but prefers to not carry an epinephrine pen, instead carrying Benadryl, proposing that she’s never gone into anaphylactic shock before but the reaction can still be fatal if not dealt with quickly; she carries around her notes for different classes for research, and tends to doodle in class, preferring pencil over pen even though she doesn’t use the eraser hardly ever, and she wasn’t lying about the subjects she was studying for projects; her iPod probably consists of music she’d listen to to either study or memorize the music she has to perform, which would also cover the sheet music, which is rarely noted in, probably because the music isn’t hers and she’s borrowing it. She’s nyctophobic, and thus carries a pocket wind-up flashlight with her. She’s a chocoholic, keeping a bag of chocolate close by just in case she needs it, much like a tobacco smoker, and sealed it off because she cares about that tiny mutt she named after a Mandarin dish, I wouldn’t be surprised if she named the other dog, probably a German Shepherd, after another food, maybe something like Momo.. and, obviously, she’s on her cycle and needs the extra products just in case. What interests me is the extra change of clothes in her bag too. She knew something was going to be different about today compared to her normal schedule.”

 

“How can you tell? What if she just always packs extra clothes?”

 

“They’ve been shoved in out of the normal order of her bag, she’s not used to it in there and so it takes up a lot of space, although the dog seemed to like it from the amount of fur left on it.”

 

“Amazing.” John looked at Sherlock, speechless except for that one word that seemed to constantly tumble out of his mouth, along with ‘brilliant’ and the occasional ‘fantastic.’ “But what about-”

 

“Oh just make out already!” Scarlet had covered the speaker of the phone to yell at them, then rolled her eyes and went back to her call before John could object and muttered, “dumbasses… so what were you saying? ..hello? Hell-” she suddenly yanked the phone away from her ear as the room was filled with outraged screaming.

 

“This is the third time this month you twit! What are you, afraid of the dark!? Now get your sorry ass here in the next 3 minutes, or I’ll have your head on a platter!” the voice screeched in such a way that no one was quite sure if the speaker was male or female. Scarlet winced, said she’d be there, then quickly hung up. She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, then pressed her palms against her face and groaned.

 

“Something wrong?” John raised an eyebrow, “That conversation sounded absolutely delightful by the way. Was it your mum?”

 

“I wish,” Scarlet sighed, “My uni friend and roommate thinks she’s my mom more often than not.” she smiled slightly, then looked at the three adults, “Anyway, I need to get back to Royal before she tears a hole through me.”

 

“Alright, well then I think we’ll see you around, good luck with that roommate of yours.” John made a move to show her to the door, when Sherlock stopped him.

 

“I’d rather like to meet this other Scarlet, if you don’t mind,” Sherlock suddenly became a little more cheerful and polite, a drastic contrast to his usual aloof and brash nature. Scarlet raised her eyebrows and was about to object, but glanced out the window to the street lit Baker Street. It was almost unnoticeable, just a simple flick of her eyes, but the minute action caught Sherlock’s attention. He held a secret smirk on his face, knowing the next words to escape her lips.

 

“Fine. Get me there before rehearsal starts, and you can talk to the other Scarlet and get some ‘real’ answers,” the teen put air quotes around the word, almost as if saying ‘yeah, good luck trying to get anything.’ Sherlock smirked knowingly.

 

“I know a shortcut.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probaby gonna edit after I post. I always appreciate feedback :D

**Author's Note:**

> Work in progress right now :D this is my first story on here so I'd love feedback!


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